On July 31st, 2024, I left my marriage for my safety. Today, July 31st, 2026, two years to the day, I published my first book.

My psychiatrist once asked me six words that rearranged how I think about self-care. Are you giving yourself any comfort?

I thought playpens were a relic of the eighties. Then one changed the entire shape of our days. Here is what actually makes one safe, the four I trust, and permission to step a few feet away without the guilt.

My daughter screamed "Dada" across a crowded pool, and something in me came apart. This is the story of the Saturday it cracked open, and a love letter to every mother holding a family together on her own.

Six sunscreens I trust after melanoma, for every skin type and budget.

I’m exhausted. My bones are tired. I’m supposed to be writing about sunscreen this week.

Memorial Day has come and gone, which can only mean one thing: beach season is officially here.

I was mindlessly doomscrolling on TikTok late one night when the algorithm decided it was time to activate every fear center in my brain.

Growth is not linear. The tides pull back before they come in. And some days, that's exactly what healing feels like.

They call the 11th month the "long goodbye" — and, man, do I understand why.

On July 31st, 2024, the police told me it was no longer safe for me to go anywhere near my home…

I LOVE research. Yes, I’m a total nerd. I’m talking full-on, down the rabbit hole, cannot put my phone down—research NERD…